New Car
by Penny Cork
Summary: A slightly different take on the season finale told in two parts. Rated T for language.
1. Annie

**Disclaimer: I would never be creative enough to come up with Annie and Auggie on my own :)**

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><p>The road was coming at her in a clear ribbon of yellow and black. Everything else was a blur, but the road wound a solid, comforting line in front of her. Where was she going? She didn't know. What was she going to do? She didn't know that either. She knew that the wheel stopped the shaking of her hands that had become quite frequent in the past couple of days. She knew the noise of the engine drowned out the shot that had been echoing in her head long after its echoes had faded across the ocean. She knew Auggie's smell, dulled by the sharp air hitting her nose, cleansed the acrid stench of gunpowder.<p>

She also knew that the longer she followed this comforting yellow line, the further she drove from the only person she could truly talk to. The person who could provide a permanent fix to the confusion and hurt that the car only temporarily healed.

Screw the Agency shrinks. She was sure one conversation with Auggie would be worth more than a whole therapy program.

And now he was on a plane to fucking Africa and here she was willing his stupid car to go faster, faster, faster because that's what he'd told her to do and dammit if she stayed there one more second she was going to cry. And she didn't think she could deal with him brushing her off for the third time in the space of five minutes.

No that wasn't fair. He hadn't meant to. He hadn't seen. Hadn't seen the way she winced when he told her the Agency "had people she could talk to". Hadn't seen the pleading in her eyes when she gripped his hand. She forgot, sometimes, that he didn't see. It wasn't so much how well adjusted he was; it was just that she liked him so much and trusted him so completely that his disability faded into the background. But he hadn't seen and now he was going and she was left with only Danielle and the long silences that still hung between them.

Why had she grabbed his hand? She didn't love him. She trusted him. In her experience the two didn't mix. Danielle's words had messed with her head, and in one moment she made herself vulnerable by holding his hand. Just so her own damn hands would stop shaking so much.

"Your voice changes a little when you talk to him." Of course it did. Around Auggie, she didn't have to guard herself. She trusted him more than she had trusted anyone. Ever. That didn't mean she loved him. He wasn't like Eyal – she didn't want to jump him every time she laid eyes on him. He wasn't like Ben.

But he was leaving for fucking Africa. NO! He wasn't like Ben.

So why did she suddenly want to know all about this Parker girl? Because she was embarrassed, that's why. Because she'd held Auggie's hand in a way that was different even than the occasional chaste kiss on his cheek, and he'd told her he was in love. With Parker. And he was going to Africa. And he had given her his car.

Which she was driving now to god-knows-where as she concentrated on just following the steady black ribbon which seemed to be the only solid guide in a world that was steadily spinning out of control. This was how she felt when Ben left.

And that's what did it. She slammed her foot down on the brake, skidding to a stop in a move obviously perfected by months of training.

This was absolutely ridiculous. When she joined the Agency, she had sworn she wasn't going to get burned again. And Auggie hadn't even betrayed her. He owed her nothing. Come to think of it, she owed him bigtime – both for the car and for getting her safely out of Stockholm yet AGAIN. He was still her best friend. She would still trust him with her life, but she didn't need to all the time. She could fight for herself, and she could patch her own wounds. She needed to get a grip.

She started the engine again, and smiled in satisfaction at the sound. Auggie was right: there was nothing quite like it. She gently pressed the gas, and although the car still shot forward with barely contained power, the wind was no longer gusting in her face. The world had ceased to be a blur, and as she headed back, she admired the bleak grass that was made golden by the evening sunlight.

She would probably like Parker. If Auggie liked her that much, she was probably really awesome. And she had joined the Peace Corps. That's what Annie would have done if the CIA thing hadn't worked out.

She sped up, but this time it wasn't an instinctual flight that drove her onward. She wanted to get back for dinner with Danielle. And she needed to set up a Skype account.

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><p><strong>AN: So this is my first time posting anything here. I hesitated for a while because I wanted to write something that I thought really did the characters justice as they are at this point in the show. (I'm still not sure I got it quite right.) So this is Annie's response - I hope both that you like it and that I did these amazing characters justice. I'm going to add Auggie's perspective, but I'm taking my time on it because there's a lot I want to include.<strong>


	2. Auggie

**Disclaimer: I don't own them :(**_  
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><p><em>I'm sorry<em>. The words he'd heard too much in the past fourty-eight hours were now reverberating in his head refusing to let him sleep. _I'm sorry, Auggie. _That was the last thing he'd heard the doctor say before he hung up. Sorry you couldn't fix me? Sorry I was broken to begin with? _Sorry. _The words burned his tongue, and he said them out loud in an effort to release them.

_I'm sorry, Annie. _Sorry it hurts. Sorry I wasn't there when you needed me the most. I just couldn't face any more sorrow.

He had held it together for her up until he knew she was home safely in DC. Still reeling from the blow the doctor had dealt him, the only thing he could think to do was throw himself into protecting someone else. His best friend was in danger, and this time she would come home safely. He wasn't going to let her follow Billy.

But when he got home, the words came back. They were no longer spoken in the doctor's voice, and he knew that he was no longer just upset about his exam results. After all, he had known what they would be before he picked up the phone.

_I'm sorry_. The words were now spoken by his commander and his therapist and his mom and his boss. They were some of the only words he'd heard for a while after returning from the war missing both his sight and his best friend. Hearing them with such finality after three years just brought all those memories back to him. He had been hiding for so long that it was quite easy to push them aside, but he didn't want to hide anymore.

He'd found Parker, and suddenly he wanted to remember something before the explosion. Lying at home later that night he made his decision. He was going after her. He didn't actually know what he would do when he got there. He didn't know if he loved her or just needed her connection to Billy. He didn't really care either way. He knew that they each needed the comfort the other provided, and if calling it love made it simpler, so be it.

As soon as he'd decided, he wanted to be gone. If the urge seemed uncannily like running away, he chose to ignore it. So even though it was 3:30 AM, he got up and booked a flight for the very next evening. Then he fell into bed and slept a dreamless sleep until his alarm went off at seven. He'd forgotten to turn it off last night. Groaning, he rolled out of bed knowing that he was far too jumpy to sleep any longer.

He needed to be gone. He knew for sure now that he was running, but for some reason he found himself sitting on the hood of his '67 Vette listening with equal amounts of dread and elation as Annie's heels clicked closer. She at least deserved a goodbye. But he quietly cursed himself. There was no way he was going to Africa now.

He could do this. He was leaving, and she wasn't going to make him stay. He loved Parker, and he was going to go after her.

The car sealed the deal. He thought it was funny in a way – give up the last of your ties to the past so that you can chase your past to Africa. (He'd always loved irony.)

She wanted to talk, but he wasn't going to let her keep him here. They'd talk when he was safely on the other side of a trans-Atlantic phone line. It hurt brushing her off like that because he knew how much she needed to talk. But he knew that she would chalk it up to his lack of sight – he wasn't doing permanent damage.

Then she had the keys, and there was an excruciatingly long pause. He thought she was going to give them back, but then she was backing away. He almost winced. She wasn't walking away, she was backing. Like she would from an enemy. What had he done?

He felt her flinch when he touched her arm, but he resolutely ignored it. He was almost done. God, this was more painful than holding it together for the doctor.

_I can literally see you smiling_. She started the engine and he finally turned to go back inside leaving her with those words. Because they were true. She was sitting behind the wheel, and she was smiling. It was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. It was completely fake. His world was dark, and would always be so. She wasn't smiling – she was holding back tears. But he so desperately needed it to be true.

So now, sitting on the plane with the darkness pressing closer and closer (how was that even possible?) he conjured that smile again. It was a smile he saw every time he heard her coming, and it relieved his tension when he heard it through the earpiece on one of her interminable missions. It spoke of trust and warmth and a friendship truer than he had ever known. Seeing it now made him smile for the first time in three days. He may be running, but he wasn't leaving forever. Parker connected him to a brighter past, but he couldn't live there permanently. He was basically taking a vacation, and he'd return soon enough. And his best friend would be there with her smile and a scarily fast car. Oh man, he was really looking forward to seeing Annie drive that thing (metaphorically of course). If he would never be able to drive it, she was the only one he trusted to do it right.

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><p><strong>AN: Right, that's done. I don't know how well it's done. For some reason I found Annie MUCH easier to write than Auggie. I hope I didn't make this too over-the-top angsty. I really wanted to explain why Auggie seemed so distant during his conversation with Annie because that really bugged me in the show. Well, I guess that's all for now... I think this was just going to be a quick two-shot, but I don't really know if I like how it ended. Oh well, I'll stop rambling now. Thanks for reading! <strong>

**Oh, by the way: I don't know quite how this works, but my inbox has suddenly been flooded with story alerts and favorites and stuff. THAT'S SO FLATTERING AND THANK YOU VERY MUCH to anyone who's taken the time to read my story :).**


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